


Caged In

by zaffrin



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Dark, F/M, but ends ok, not nice, prison fic, set before ROTD so no spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-02
Updated: 2021-01-02
Packaged: 2021-03-12 12:08:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,204
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28510176
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zaffrin/pseuds/zaffrin
Summary: “Not here, I…” She clenches her jaw, looks away from his eyes. “Come to my cell tonight. I’ll do whatever you want.”“Oooh,” the Master coos, “Tempting words.” He strides away from her, fingers stroking his beard like he’s considering.Theatrics.She knows his mockery when she sees it. He spins on his heel to face her, coat tails flying around him, and tugs on his lapels. “But I’m ever so busy later. Dinner at eight, genocide at nine - you know how it is.”
Relationships: Thirteenth Doctor/The Master (Dhawan)
Comments: 10
Kudos: 45





	Caged In

**Author's Note:**

> A fic set while she's in prison. Vague descriptions of the prison but nothing that wasn't in the trailer so no spoilers if you haven't seen the special yet. But read the warnings this is DARK and contains non-con please avoid if not your thing!

The first time is in the dingy shower room. She nearly stumbles back in surprise when she walks in past red arrows only to find herself not alone as usual in the small, grey room with lukewarm water running from the shower head. 

She thinks at first she is hallucinating - then wonders frantically if he’d been caught and thrown in here too - but that wouldn’t explain why he was in the shower  _ with her _ \- was this a joke, a trick? A figment of her imagination?

His cold hand on her face is real enough, as is his low voice when he answers her jumbled questions with a claim that he’s there to break her out. If she gave him something in return. 

And she is foolish (desperate) enough to believe him. Lets him push her to her knees and opens her mouth to take his cock in, lets him drag her up and press her breasts into the cold tiles as he shoves his wet cock into her from behind. 

It’s unpleasant, and she hates him with every fibre of her being as he takes her there, but she grits her teeth and endures, promises herself she’ll get even with him  _ somehow _ for this after she’s free - reminds herself that a few minutes of unpleasantness are worth a lifetime of freedom. 

But he is the Master, and she… is an idiot for ever believing him for after he’s done, he gives her nothing but a smack on the behind and a cruel quip in her ear, some twist on words about having delivered on his promise to  _ break her _ , and then he is gone. 

The Doctor sinks to the floor on her knees, far too stunned and hurt and exhausted to have the sense to work out how he’d disappeared - how he’d even got in in the first place. 

Weeks pass, and she tries to put it behind her. Tries not to think of his hands bruising on her hips or his cock moving inside her when she lies curled up on her bunk at night - tries even to convince herself she had imagined that he’d ever been in that shower with her at all. Perhaps it was a nightmare, bled together into her memories of this place in her tired mind and fooling her into thinking it really happened. She tries not to shake every time she’s led to the same showers. 

Until one day, he’s there again, and he has no pretty false promises to offer her this time (not that she would have believed him after the last), only cold hands on her skin and teeth sinking into her neck, a rough voice growling nonsense into her ear, words dripping with anger. 

After that, he appears sporadically. Sometimes it’s in that horrible grey shower, sometimes the hallway on the way. Sometimes he’s sitting on the stone table that constitutes for a bed when she gets back to her cell at night with a grin on his lips and darkness glittering in his eyes. 

She doesn’t know how he’s getting in and out. He’s clearly rigging the cameras that cover every inch of the place too and she doesn’t know how he’s doing that either. She’d tried herself - has the shock burn on her fingertips in proof. 

She doesn’t know how he’s doing it, and so she cannot stop him. She tries to fight him off more once, and gets herself a bloody lip and bruised ribs for her efforts. He is larger and stronger than her this time, especially with the awfully un-nourishing brown blocks that constitute as food in this place, and it isn’t fair. 

It isn’t about sex. She knows that. This is about making her submit to him -  _ bending her  _ to his will. He tells her as much, whispers it in half jumbled mutterings of madness in her ear on more than one occasion. He tells her how much he hates her - for what she is, what  _ he is _ because of her, what she made him do, what she  _ failed _ to do...

She wonders why he doesn’t just do it himself. On her darker nights, she wishes he would. (Wishes, sometimes even, that  _ she _ could). 

And yet… some stupid, foolish tiny part of her still doesn’t hate him for what he’s doing to her. The Master is filled with rage and madness, his mind irrational, twisted and broken - and the Doctor cannot help but feel that a part of her is responsible for that. He is what he is because of her existence. She had tried to fix him before, and it had failed. Perhaps she should never have let him go on like this. 

Sometimes, in between his visits she tries to convince herself that he was never really there. That it’s all an illusion of her tired and confused mind. Or maybe even some terrible device of torture, hallucinations conjured up by technology that serve as her form of punishment in this place. But he knows too much about her not to be real. Whispers it into her ear as he fucks her, reminds her of pasts she’d rather forget, and taunts her about pasts she doesn’t know if she’s ever had. 

Weeks pass between his visits sometimes - even months. But he always returns. She wonders when he will tire of this game and leave her be. She knows she would be foolish to hope. 

“Morning camera thirty-eight,” she says aloud as she walks past it in the hallway. It’s a way to keep herself sane - an attempt to, anyway. She needs  _ some  _ form of interaction that isn’t with  _ him _ in here, and at least this way she can pretend. 

There’s the creak of the gate opening, and she follows the arrows, walking down the usual route though cages towards the small square of floor that made her pen for the day. The arrows at the end point left instead of right today, and she turns to follow them obligingly. 

“Ooh, new pen is it, today? Didn’t realise it was rotation time already. Felt like switching things up?” She speaks to the arrows. They do not answer her, just point her left again at the end into her destination and she nods her head as she walks past. 

“Fine then, not feeling that chatty myself today eith-”

Her pen is not empty, and the Doctor’s whole body goes cold.

She stares at the Master as the gate shuts behind her, and he stares quietly back. She's trapped here, nowhere to go. Prisoners on every side, all around them. Caged in. 

“Not here,” she whispers, dread filling her body like lead.

A predatory smirk is spreading across his face as he stalks towards her. “Why-ever not, love? Always did fancy a bit of exhibitionism before, didn’t you? Or was that just your fifth self? Or was it your tenth, I can’t recall.”

She shakes her head. “No.”

“No?”

He comes to a stop in front of her and she raises her chin. “There’s a hundred cameras in this area,” she says lowly. “Three hundred and eight, to be precise. I’ve counted. You can’t possibly have rigged them all. Someone will realise and -”

“Oh don’t you worry yourself about that,” he cuts her off, stepping forward again. She backs up, into the gate behind her, and her eyes dart about as he crowds her up against it. 

“Why are you doing this?” She whispers. “What could you possibly gain by -”

“Oh yadda, yadda - we’ve been through it all before, Doctor. And quite frankly I don’t have the time today. Now are you going to take that ridiculous jumpsuit off, or do you want me to do it for you?”

She shakes her head again, folding her arms about herself. ( _ ‘Don’t have the time today’  _ echoes in her head, niggling at something in her brain and she stashes it away) “No,” she says again desperately. “Not here, I…” She clenches her jaw, looks away from his eyes. “Come to my cell tonight. I’ll do whatever you want.”

“Oooh,” he coos, “Tempting words.” He strides away from her, fingers stroking his beard like he’s considering.  _ Theatrics _ . She knows his mockery when she sees it. He spins on his heel to face her, coat tails flying around him, and tugs on his lapels. “But I’m ever so busy later. Dinner at eight, genocide at nine - you know how it is.”

The Doctor stares back at him, fingers curling tight in the rough material of the arms of her jumpsuit as she hugs herself. After a pause he gives a huff, and strides over to her, grabbing her wrists and yanking them down before his fingers go to the buttons at her neck. She grabs his hands, grappling with him as he tries to undress her, desperately trying to pry the material from his hands as he  _ yanks _ , ripping open all the remaining buttons down the front and attempting to peel it down. 

“Come on love, don’t be shy,” he taunts as he wrestles with her. “She’s not even looking, look.” He motions to the weeping angel in the cell next to her, its hands over its eyes. The Doctor’s gaze jumps across and sweeps around them, and his own follows it. Eyes on them, from every angle. He smirks. “Well… they are.”

She pushes at him, but it’s like pushing against a rock, and she turns her face away as he shoves his nose into her neck and inhales deeply while he yanks the suit off her shoulders and shoves it roughly down. 

“As tempting as it is to take you up against this cage wall, I’m sure you well know there’s about to be a nice electrical current running through it in three minutes time, so shall we relocate, dearest?”

“Why don’t we turn round and I can shove you face first into it,” she snarls. 

The Master laughs. “Feeling feisty today, are we? If pain’s what you’re after love…” He presses his lips cruelly to her ear, “I can give you that.”

The Doctor’s body shudders unpleasantly. Her hearts are pounding and her legs are going weak, and as much as she hates the way he hooks a foot under her calf and twists them, throwing her none too gently down onto the floor, it’s almost a relief to get off legs she’s not certain would have supported her for much longer. 

She hits her head as she goes down, and she blinks, too dazed for a moment to stop the Master as he matter-of-factly peels the jumpsuit the rest of the way down and off her legs. She’s in a basic grey set of prison-issue underwear beneath, and he makes short work of that, ripping the bra up over her head and off and yanking the pants down. She’s left naked and shivering on the cold floor, and her gaze sweeps the area, catching too many eyes staring back at her. Humiliation burns hot and horrible through her body, and tears sting in her eyes as the Master palms her breasts, squeezing and pressing them together, tweaking her nipples as she tries to push him away. 

“Ah, ah,” he grabs her wrists and pins them beside her head, shoving the bulge of his cock inside his trousers against her. She kicks at him, bracing her feet in his stomach and shoving with all her might, but the Master just gives a growl of anger and releases her wrists to yank her knees apart and insert himself between them, before gathering both her hands in one of his own and pinning them above her head. 

He unbuttons himself hastily with one hand - he’s had practice by now, and the Doctor feels sickness roll in her stomach as he lines himself up and shoves into her. 

She won’t make a sound; won’t give him the satisfaction of a reaction, and she turns her head as he starts to fuck her, biting down so hard on the inside of her cheek she tastes blood as she wills this to be over quickly. 

_ ‘Don’t have the time today…’ _

The sentence niggles at her again, and she squeezes her eyes shut and tries to make sense of why it seemed important. He’s fucking her hard - he’s never gentle - and she tries to switch off from the sensations he’s inflicting on her body; on his cock moving thick and uncomfortable inside her, his hand like a vice round her wrists and his hot breath by her neck. 

She opens her eyes - sees a flash of the angel right up against the cage wall, its face twisted in a livid scream and she jumps - then the angel is at the back again, hands over its face and her hearts are racing as the Master chuckles cruelly. 

Her unfocused vision dances across the ceiling, sweeps over the network of cameras around them. Something catches her eye - a red blink over to the left, and she blinks, trying to focus on it as he thrusts into her. 

‘ _ Don’t have the time today…’ _

It’s out of place, because the Master seems to have nothing  _ but _ time lately. He’s never made his visits rushed, never seems in a hurry to get in and out (so to speak) - but today is different, isn’t it? He’s never broken into this section of the prison before - the most heavily guarded and watched place in here. It can’t have been easy… perhaps he knows something - is aware he doesn’t have long before someone figures out something is amiss… perhaps… the Doctor can twist that to her advantage. 

“How are you getting in and out of here?” She asks him, for the hundredth time. His answer is the same as always; silence, a cruel grin pressed into her neck with his teeth. He won’t tell her - but the answer isn’t the aim - just  _ an _ answer. Distract him - keep him talking. 

“Short range teleport won’t work inside here - and there’s no way you’re clever enough to disable those systems.”

His thrusts halt a moment, before he shoves into her harder. “I so  _ could _ \- disable the  _ systems _ \- if I  _ wanted _ to,” he replies through gritted teeth, a punishing thrust on every third word hard enough to make her teeth rattle.

“If you wanted to - so you haven’t,” she fires back. “Because teleport would be too risky anyway. They could put the shields back up once you were inside and you’d be stuck. Then there’s the matter of the cameras -”

_ “Stop _ talking,” he growls, and bites her neck as he squeezes her breast.

“Not feeling chatty today? You usually love to talk. Always loved the sound of your own voice didn’t you?” 

He pinches her nipple, hard enough to make her gasp, eyes watering, and she bites down on her cheek again. 

“Come on,” she pants as he fucks her quicker, hips snapping into hers, the sound of their flesh smacking together loud and coarse amidst the hum of the cage fences and rattling and shouting of the prisoners around them. “Tell me how you’re doing it… not like I can do anything with the information. Fairly sure I don’t have access to the same  _ \- resources -  _ as you,” she bites out as he yanks a leg up, gets deeper inside her.

“Shut  _ up,”  _ he snaps, and there’s a frown on his face and sweat on his brow: she’s distracting him. He wants to come - as quickly as possible and she’s putting him off.  _ Perfect.  _

“What about the alarms? Infrared sensors - I’ve seen them. They’d be designed to go off when they detect somebody inside who isn’t scanned - how are you disabling th-“ he clamps a hand over her mouth, and his face is furious as he glares down at her. 

“I’m going to fuck you,” he tells her, still doing what he says, “and you’re going to shut up and take it unless you want me to flip you over and turn your arse red with the palm of my hand!”

She inhales sharply through her nose at that, stomach flipping a bit.  _ He wouldn’t.  _ Surely?

_ He would. _ She knows that. This version of the Master is… as unhinged as she’d known him. The Doctor can believe anything of him. 

_ Different tactic,  _ she thinks desperately. - But it’s too late - he’s coming, hips juddering into her as his mouth falls open and his brow knits together.

Another blink of red, to her left this time - then another, to the right again. Cameras are flashing on, and the Doctor’s hearts leap, adrenaline flowing through her as the Master collapses atop her. Perhaps it isn’t too late. Or maybe it  _ is _ \- for the Master, depending on his escape plan. 

He’s pulling out and clambering off her, buttoning his trousers and another blink of red light goes off behind him, just above her pen. 

“Wait!” She gasps quickly, and it’s out of character enough to make the Master startle, blinking down at her in puzzlement. 

“What?”

Grabbing her jumpsuit to cover herself (not that there’s much of her dignity left to be preserved), she scrambles to her feet. “Uh… when will you be back?”   
The Master blinks at her. “What?”

“When will I see you again? I never know. Sometimes it’s a week, sometimes three months. I just wondered, is all.” 

A slow smile is coming to his lips. “Don’t tell me you’re starting to  _ enjoy _ my visits?” He steps towards her, reaches up with a hand and she tries not to flinch. He brushes back a lock of her messy hair and leans in to bring his mouth closer to her ear to whisper his next words. “I’ll have to try harder next time.”

A full body shiver goes through her - but then it doesn’t matter -  _ nothing _ matters because alarms are blaring and red lights flashing and the Master is staggering back, groping for his pocket - 

The Doctor throws herself across the pen, grabs his wrists and pins them to the cage wall beside his head as she throws her whole weight against him, and he’s startled enough by it to let it happen. He’ll start to struggle in a second, but she’ll only have to pin him here for five - four…. three… two…

They both yell when the current courses through the wire and gets the Master in the back and her by extension, and she’s sprawled on the floor, her whole body aching and twitching from the shock and that was  _ not pleasant -  _ but it’s worth it. It’s  _ so _ worth it when she blinks through blurred, spinning vision to see her cage door sliding open and a thundering troop of eight judoon bursting in and hauling the writhing Master up off the floor, yelling in their furious language. 

They spare her barely a glance, leaving her sprawled on the floor with her clothes scattered around - but the Doctor is smiling as they haul away the Master, yelling and cursing her the whole way, threatening to tear her apart limb from limb when he gets free. 

_ Free _ . 

The cage door slams shut, leaving her alone. She may still be in a cell, but a little part of the Doctor feels freer than it did this morning, and she smiles. 

\--

**Author's Note:**

> Legend has it he's still there serving time for the 8937392759204341 crimes they dug up under his name...


End file.
